I felt ridiculed during my last critique among fellow ceramic majors and professors. I showed them what I thought to be substantial work. I talked about my work like students are expected, but what I had to say was the problem. I explained that there really is nothing to explain. I free form my pieces and they turn out to be this way for no reason, at least, no reason that I can explain, until now.
I have been thinking a lot about how I feel so strongly connected to functional pots but have a desire to go sculptural. I have been told that it is best to go one way or the other in order to focus and enhance a particular skill set. I was thinking and I realized I don’t necessarily have to choose one or the other. I am going to blend the two by making thrown and altered forms that have the same origins of inspiration as my functional work.
After much contemplation contemplating things I never contemplate, I realized my enthusiasm and inspiration for making pitchers comes from the human form. I know it sounds weird but I am attracted a finely made, wide bottomed pitcher in a similar way I am attracted to the opposite sex. I believe it is hardwired in us humans to respond to attractive human form, therefore, our sense of aesthetics is developed based on our taste in an attractive counterpart.
The features of my pitchers are highly gestural as they relate to the human form, this is a fact and I have been subconsciously driven by during the past 4 years. crazy.
So I am going to continue pushing my functional work and at the same time make sculpture with the same methods, techniques, and inspiration.
Now that I have that business all straightened out, one last word regarding my current sculpture project. Today, as I was working on the large sculpture in the photo below, it collapsed, fell over, and was ruined. it took me about 8-10 hours to get to that point, on top of that, it was my final assignment in my sculpture class. I feel like shit and heartbreak. that’s ceramics for ya. times like this makes me feel like ceramics is my master, testing the will of my heart. It has been a struggle to keep things in context and not get upset. Overall I feel good though because from the second this sculpture fell over, I felt acceptance. It wasn’t until I was loading the mess back into the pug mill that the loss set in. I reformed the clay into a similar shape but not nearly as striking as the first form, due to the time constraints of the end of this semester. We will see how it turns out.